Peter Sieling
Every two years, our county Cooperative Extension sponsors an event called Farm/City Day. One of several local farms hosts the event. They clear out the machinery sheds and agricultural businesses set up displays in them. They want educational displays, but you can sell your products. It is kid friendly: milk a cow, play in a corn pile, pick your own pumpkin, sample free ice cream, yogurt and cheese. Get lost in the corn maze. They get thousands of visitors. No one knows how many are lost in the corn maze until they harvest it.
I set up a honey display with an observation hive, give away National Honey Board recipe brochures and sell flavored honey straws and honey. I don’t sell enough to make it pay, but I get enough new customers to make it worthwhile. Over the years I’ve learned some lessons that may help others who want to sell honey at farmer’s markets, fairs and seasonal festivals.
Two people are better than one. My wife, Nancy usually comes and helps. She sells and I talk bees—all day. I’ve had people standing in line to ask me questions. By evening, my voice is about gone, and Nancy has sold twice what I could sell alone.
When they put you in a merchant tent, your booth is supposed to face the inside of the tent. Nancy knows these things instinctively, but because setup is early morning, I set up and she comes just before the crowds pour in. The first time I set it all up backwards. Nancy came at ten. People were walking through the tent behind me. “They don’t want people tripping on the guy lines,” she explained while turning it all around.
Outdoor displays should be wind resistant. One year our honey variety poster blew over at least one million times, the brochures blew across the driveway unless held down with rocks and once Helen, my mannequin in a bee suit, tipped over, breaking all her fingers off one hand.
Price everything to the even dollar including tax. There’s no time to use a calculator when there is a line of people grabbing jars of honey. Bring lots of one-, five- and ten-dollar bills. People will buy one dollar’s worth of honey straws with a twenty-dollar bill. The wind especially tries to grab twenty-dollar bills and blow them into the corn maze. Rather than carefully sort bills, I end up stuffing them into one pocket and making change with the other.
Take an eleven-year-old. Nancy couldn’t come one year so I invited Lindsay, my young apprentice. She was very helpful… most of the time. During one of the lulls, she asked me if she could go look at some of the displays.
“Sure.” I said, immediately worrying what her mother would say if I lost her. As soon as she left, the crowd thickened. I talked as fast as I could, made change and kept children from handling all the honey straws. Lindsay returned as the crowd thinned. She brought two cartons of free chocolate milk.
“Mr. Sieling, may I go up in that thing?” Steuben Rural Electric had set up a truck with a twin basket cherry picker. They were giving rides in the baskets. The truck’s grill stared at our booth and the engine ran all day, making it hard to hear.
Lindsay returned later with a handful of string cheese to share. Her family came that afternoon. They got lost in the corn maze. Lindsay made another round of the displays and brought back two of everything: food samples, magnetized signs, compasses (the cheap kind that point anywhere but north), thermometers and two rain gauges. I wondered if we could sell them.
There were short periods between customers, times when I tried to impart beekeeping knowledge to my young apprentice. She had lots of her own questions.
“Mr. Sieling, what color are your eyes? What color was your hair when you were my age? Did you know a compass doesn’t point to true north? It just points to the nearest metal object, so if you follow the needle, you’re sure to find civilization, or at least an old, junked car or steel barrel. I think you’d like the corn maze. Could we go through it after we pack up?”
Three hours later the crowds were gone, and the display packed in the van. I was tired, hoarse and lost in a corn maze. My pockets were stuffed with cash. Money is worthless if you are going to die in a corn maze. Lindsay had her compass out.
“Which way now, Mr. Sieling? I’ve seen that same flyer on the ground at this intersection three times.”
I sat down next to the flyer and waited for Lindsay to come around again. There should have been a sign-in/sign-out book at the maze entrance. How else would they know how big a helicopter to send to rescue all the lost souls?
The sun is setting on a long day. Lindsay wants to do this again next time.
